


Five Drabbles

by ignipes



Category: Supernatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-20
Updated: 2006-03-20
Packaged: 2017-10-03 09:50:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ignipes/pseuds/ignipes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A graveyard, a knife, a haunted house, a handsome stranger, and a thing in the woods.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Drabbles

**gravedigger**

"She was so young."

The voice startles him; it's well after dark and he thought the cemetery was empty. She's standing on the path, a bouquet of daisies in her hands.

"Was she your sister?" she asks.

He looks down at the gravestone with the stranger's name. Somebody's sister, somebody's daughter, and now she's somebody else's restless, dangerous ghost.

He shrugs, and she touches his arm before walking away.

He watches as she places the daisies on another grave and returns to her car. Then he retrieves the shovel from behind the tree and sinks it into the soft earth.

-

**headsman**

"What's this?" she asks, flopping onto the bed beside him.

He lowers his book. She's holding one of his knives, a long, curved silver blade that glints in the afternoon sunlight. She's holding it like she doesn't quite know how, a confused half-smiled playing on her lips.

"Nothing," he says quickly, taking it from her. "It was just a joke."

"It's pretty sharp for a joke," she says.

He replies, "It wasn't a very good joke."

She laughs and rolls toward him, dancing her fingers across his belly. "You're lucky you're so cute," she says, "because you're awfully weird, too."

-

**ghost swift**

The house is filled with small noises: footsteps, floorboards, branches tapping on windows. The furniture is covered with sheets; there are black cloths over the mirrors and clocks. The stirred-up dust dances in the beam of his flashlight.

He spots a wooden trunk and wanders over to it. It isn't locked, so he lifts the lid.

Something white and swift bursts from the trunk, whirling around his face, and he stumbles backward with a strangled shout.

Sam is at his side in an instant. "What is it? Did you--"

"Moths." Dean's laugh echoes in the old house. "Fucking moths."

-

**prairie wolf**

He's been in here every night for the past week, drinking alone, and she decides that it's high time he introduces himself. She brings him a draft on the house and her friendliest smile. "Been seeing you around a bit, stranger," she says.

"Not a bad place you got," he says. He looks up, gives her that kind of smile that makes her think, nah, she ain't too old for this yet.

"You'll be beating all the guys at pool again tonight?"

"Not tonight, sweetheart."

"Why's that?"

He takes a sip of the beer and winks. "It's a full moon."

-

**will-o'-the-wisp**

He can see them moving, Dad on one side and Sam on the other. Their flashlights glow white through the fog and trees. Dad is silent, but Sammy is crashing around like an angry bear.

He thinks about sneaking up on Sam, scaring the shit out of him just for fun, but then he trips over something too squishy to be a root and the smell hits him like a freight train.

"Uh...guys?" He coughs into his sleeve. "I found it. Over here."

They move toward him, detached lights floating through the fog, and he tries not to look down.


End file.
